But the difficultest go to understand,And the difficultest job a man can do,...Is to come it brave and meek with thirty bob a week,And feel that that's the proper thing for you.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »

If it is not a tragical life we live, then I know not what to call it. Such a story as that of Jesus Christ,--the history of Jerus...alem, say, being a part of the Universal History. The naked, the embalmed, unburied death of Jerusalem amid its desolate hills,--think of it. In Tasso's poem I trust some things are sweetly buried. Consider the snappish tenacity with which they preach Christianity still. What are time and space to Christianity, eighteen hundred years, and a new world?--that the humble life of a Jewish peasant should have force to make a New York bishop so bigoted. Forty-four lamps, the gift of kings, now burning in a place called the Holy Sepulchre; a church-bell ringing; some unaffected tears shed by a pilgrim on Mount Calvary within the week.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »

I at length reached the last house but one, where the path to the summit diverged to the right, while the summit itself rose direc...tly in front. But I determined to follow up the valley to its head, and then find my own route up the steep as the shorter and more adventurous way. I had thoughts of returning to this house, which was well kept and so nobly placed, the next day, and perhaps remaining a week there, if I could have entertainment. Its mistress was a frank and hospitable young woman, who stood before me in a dishabille, busily and unconcernedly combing her long black hair while she talked, giving her head the necessary toss with each sweep of the comb, with lively, sparkling eyes, and full of interest in that lower world from which I had come, talking all the while as familiarly as if she had known me for years, and reminding me of a cousin of mine. She at first had taken me for a student from Williamstown, for they went by in parties, she said, either riding or walking, almost every pleasant day, and were a pretty wild set of fellows; but they never went by the way I was going.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »

Alvy's psychiatrist: How often do you sleep together?Annie's psychiatrist: Do you have sex often?...Alvy Singer: Hardly ever. Maybe three times a week.Annie Hall: Constantly! I'd say three times a week.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »

I was born to be an editor, I always edit everything. I edit my room at least once a week. Hotels are made for me. I can change a ...hotel room so thoroughly that even its proprietor doesn't recognize it.... I edit people's clothes, dressing them infallibly in the right lines.... I change everyone's coiffure--except those that please me--and these I gaze at with such satisfaction that I become suspect, I edit people's tones of voice, their laughter, their words. I change their gestures, their photographs. I change the books I read, the music I hear ... It's this incessant, unavoidable observation, this need to distinguish and impose, that has made me an editor. I can't make things. I can only revise what has been made.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »

... we shall never become an immense power in the world until we concentrate all our money and editorial forces upon one great nat...ional daily newspaper, so we can sauce back our opponents every day in the year; once a month or once a week is not enough.LESSATTRIBUTION DETAIL »